01x13 - By the Pricking of my Thumbs

[bunniefuu]

"Miss Marple"/ "Tommy&Tuppence" in:

Agatha Christie's
"By The Pricking Of My Thumbs"

They won't find her.
She'll be in the witch's house by now.

Do you know the story of the witch, Ethan?

My dad said she used to take children
from the village,

...back in the golden days.

Come on!

♪ though near or far ♪

♪ like a song of love that clings to me ♪

♪ how the thought of you does things to me ♪

♪ never before has someone been more ♪
Darling!

♪ unforgettable ♪

You're making me late!

♪ in every way ♪
Why do you do this to me?

- Darling! Are you coming?
- Yes.

I said I wanted to be there by 11,

gone by 12 and back in London by 1:15!

You should've told me.

We could have synchronised our watches.

- Yes, I wish we had.
- Yes, I know you do.

Come, come, come!
Quick, quick, quick!

Tuppence!

Yes, coming!

Come on!

- Can't you drive?
- Oh!

I want to read my book.

- Macbeth?
- Macbeth.

I was in Macbeth at my prep school.

''Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day.''

I heard you were marvellous.

- Who from?
- You.

''By the pricking of my thumbs

Something wicked this way comes.''

Morning, Mr Beresford.

Miss Packard.

How nice to see you again.

Darling!

Coming.

Your Aunt Ada will be extremely
pleased to see you.

She's been asking after you for months,

although she does enjoy the postcards.

Ah, yes. I've been rather remiss,
I'm afraid.

Even this visit is squeezed in between
business trips.

She's been looking out the window
all morning,

cursing everything and anything
that might have delayed you.

Ah, yes. Do you really want to come in,
darling?

I could take that

and if she's in one of her moods,
you know how she can be.

No, I'd like to see her, thank you.

Well...yes.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- Oh, I like your brooch!
- Oh...

Thank you.

It's pretty.

Yes. Thank you, Mrs Lancaster.

Would you like a Polo mint?

Oh, no, thank you.

- Darling, come on!
- The colour suits your eyes.

Come in.

Ah, ha, ha!

Doesn't she look marvellous!

Hello, Ada.

I hope there are no jam cakes in
basket you're clutching.

I'm not an invalid, Tommy. I don't
need charity.

- No, no, no.
- Kissing, please.

What's in there?

I baked you a cake.

Well, take it back down to the kitchen,
or something.

I'm sure Miss Packard will dish it out
to the old biddies.

You're one of the oldest biddies here,
Aunt Ada.

To the young biddies, then.

I'm sure some of them need a bit
of fattening up.

- There's something I wanted to ask you.
- Yes.

The United Nations building in
New York - what's it like?

- I've been reading about it.
- I haven't been, Aunt Ada.

You haven't been?

Really, Tom!

You're so clever, they should have
let you run the place!

Have you seen today's crossword?

No.

Will you get rid of those cakes!

You never had the intelligence
for this kind of thing.

White House flowers away from
the African plain.

Ah! Something ''-velt''.

''Roosevelt'', which means the
answer's ''Rose''.

Hello. You look lost, my dear.

Do I? I was looking for
Miss Packard's office.

- It's on the ground floor.
- Ah.

The quickest way is the back stairs.

- Thank you very much.
- Come on, Marjorie.

Hello.

Er, yes?

Ada asked if this cake could be used
for everyone.

Oh, thank you. Er...leave it there.

And jam.

Is there somewhere I could sit
and wait for my husband?

Er, yes.

This way.

It's such a pretty brooch.

It was my mother's.

I think you must look like your mother.

- Yes.
- She must have been proud.

Would you like some tea
or coffee, perhaps?

- They're very obliging here.
- No, thank you.

Or a glass of milk?

I know you don't like Polos.

I...I do, actually.

I was just being polite.

Oh, that's the spirit. There.

Thank you.

Have you been here long, Mrs Lancaster?

Oh, two...two...three years.

One loses touch with things.

Three. One loses touch with people, too.

Any relatives I have spend
all their time abroad.

Oh, that must be sad.

You make new friends.

Ada is a friend.

She suffers terribly from arthritis.

I do feel for her.

You're looking at the fireplace.

Am I?

Yes.

Excuse me.

It wasn't your poor child?

No. I don't think so.

Oh. I thought perhaps you'd come
for a reason.

Someone will come...

sometime.

That's where the poor child was,
you know.

The poor dead child.

Behind the fire.

Who?

Cocoa! Cocoa!

Where's my cocoa?

- Oh, you want your cocoa, Marjorie?
- Yes, I do!

They really should give it to her on time.

Yes, they should!

- I'll come and get it for you.
- Quick!

Tommy, what do you think to this place?

Excellent.

Aunt Ada's been very happy here.

Mrs Lancaster said something about
a dead child

being buried behind the fireplace.

Of course she did.

And I would imagine they all complain
cocoa's been poisoned

and that the cleaner is trying to steal
their purse.

What does that remind you of?

Act 1, Scene 1.

''When shall we three meet again

in thunder, lightning, or in rain?''

SIX WEEKS LATER

Yes?

May I speak to Mr Beresford, please?

No, I'm...I'm sorry,

I'm afraid he's on the Continent
on business.

This is Miss Vera Packard...

from Sunny Ridge.

I'm afrald I've got some bad news for you.

Your husband's aunt died in the night.

Oh...

Oh, dear. Poor Ada.

I realise this is not a good time,

but I'll be in touch concerning
funeral arrangements

and the transfer of her belongings
to your husband.

That's the last of it.

If you could sign this, ma'am.

All right.

Are you sure that painting was
Ada Beresford's?

I don't remember it from her room.

- Right. Thank you.
- Thank you, ma'am.

Tommy, I am writing down
certain matters

which have come to my knowledge
in recent days

here at Sunny Ridge.

I believe there's a m*rder*r at large.

Mrs Lancaster is not safe.

I will remain watchful

and shall record facts as they become
clear to me,

but if I should die, Tommy,

look to the painting

and, for God's sakes,

use your intelligence.

Hello?

This is Christopher Beresford's mother.

May I speak with him, please?

He's on a field trip
this week, Mrs Beresford.

I see.

Well, would you leave a message
with Judith

that her father's out of the country

- and I'd like to speak with her?
- I'll pass it on.

Thank you. Goodbye.

Andrew,I think there's been a problem
with Aunt Ada's death.

I think she's been m*rder*d.

So, if you speak to your brother or sister,

could you ask them to call me, please?

Have you been drinking again, Mother?

- No.
- Dad'll be home in a few days, won't he?

- Mother?
- Yes, darling.

- Mrs Beresford.
- Yes.

Good afternoon. What can I do for you?

Ada's funeral isn't until Monday.

No. I was wondering if I could ask you
a few questions.

Have all her belongings arrived safely?

No. That's just it.

There's a painting among Ada's things
didn't belong to her.

It's rather an attractive picture of
a house in the woods.

I'm sure she'd have wanted it returned
to the rightful owner

No, it was hers.

- It was a gift from Mrs Lancaster.
- Oh.

She had it in her room
and Ada had always admired it.

May I speak with Mrs Lancaster?

I'm afraid she doesn't live with us any more.

Her relatives came for her
a couple of days ago.

It was all rather sudden.

Excuse me, please.

Both of them!

Both of whom?

Oh, excuse me.
I was just talking to myself.

I'm not sitting on your bench, am I?

Oh, I don't live here.

I'm Jane Marple,
a friend of Marjorie Moody's.

We were neighbours in our village,
St Mary Mead.

I couldn't help overhearing, but...

were you asking about
the disappearance of Mrs Lancaster?

Disappearance?

Mm. I'm here today because Marjorie
has phoned me.

She's distressed at what she saw

the night Mrs Lancaster left
and your aunt died.

You are a relative of Ada Beresford?

Yes.

What is it?

Oh, it's probably nothing.

I don't know. I...

Ada left a letter to be read after her death.

What did she write?

She wrote it the day before she died.

''Mrs Lancaster is not safe.''

And within 24 hours, she's dead

and Mrs Lancaster's been taken away.

And when I was last here,

Mrs Lancaster said...

she knew where a child was buried.

That's what she said.
And that someone was coming for her.

I think both friends discovered the identity...

of a m*rder*r, Miss Marple.

And now both of them are gone.

Marjorie, can you tell Mrs Beresford

why you think Mrs Lancaster
was taken against her will?

Well, she was!

I've said it once and I'll say it again!

- Go on, then.
- You were sitting there...

I was. I keep watch.

- And you'd fallen asleep.
- I was woken by a noise!

Leave me alone!

What?

Leave me alone! Leave me...

I don't want to go with you!

Leave me alone! Leave me alone!

Listen! Don't let... Come back!

Come back!

And then Ada died

and they'd become so close!

Did you see the person taking her?

One eye.

The person only had one eye?

No, the car only had one eye!

One eye...

And Mrs Lancaster said
that there was a child buried

behind the fireplace in the sun lounge.

In my sun lounge?

I think that both she and Ada

had discovered the identity
of the m*rder*r.

Mrs Beresford,

never a day goes by without
some pearl of paranoia

from the dear ladies that live here.

Only last year,
Mrs Eburn left a note in her will

claiming to be Copenhagen,

the Duke of Wellington's favourite horse.

But Ada was as sharp as a knife.

For her to write this seems so...

out of character.

Unless it was true.

You saw her maybe once every two years,
Mrs Beresford.

How do you know it was out of character?

Did you know Ada had been diagnosed
with a heart complaint

and wasn't expected to live much longer?

No. I was...I was unaware of that.

Your husband was.

So...do you think we shouldn't go to
the police about this?

There was nothing suspicious...

..about her death.

Do you have a forwarding address
for Mrs Lancaster?

Of course.

Maybe it's still possible
to forward that painting.

c/o The Cleveland Hotel, Piccadilly.

And here's the solicitors we dealt with

while her relatives were in Africa.

- The relative who...came to collect her?
- Mrs Johnson.

Mrs Johnson?

Get in the taxi. Quick!

Where are we going?

Get in, get in.

To the nearest police station, please.

It's Miss Packard.

She's the m*rder*r.

- Really?
- I have the proof of my own eyes.

I saw her.

She doesn't know this, but I saw her...

spiking the medicine with poison.

With arsenic or strychnine.

- I don't think it is Miss Packard.
- Why not?

Because Miss Packard
has always reminded me

of lovely Mrs Dickens,
the publican's wife in St Mary Mead.

She's very kind, very dependable.

The last person you'd think
of criminal behaviour.

When things were tight after the w*r,

the gin and whisky always seemed
a little watered down.

This bottle you saw her spike -
was it large and blue?

- Yes.
- Oh, that'd be the tonic.

Very expensive.
I wouldn't be surprised

if Miss Packard was helping it go
a bit further.

You mean...she was diluting it?

I know for a fact that Miss Packard
has a good heart.

Marjorie's funds ran out during last year

and she insisted on letting her stay on
at Sunny Ridge,

simply because it had become her home.

The train station,
not the police station, please.

But...the fireplace was in her lounge.

Mm. A modern gas fire set against a wall,

rather than a chimney breast.

There's no room for anything behind it.

I think Mrs Lancaster was talking
of a different fire.

Maybe go and have a look at
that painting of yours,

like Ada suggested?

Just so I have it right,

no people called Johnson or Lancaster

have stayed at your hotel over
the last month?

Very well. Thank you.

It's almost a very good painting,

if it weren't for these blotches of amateurism.

Strange perspective!

Yes, isn't it mysterious?

Why hasn't The Cleveland heard
of the Johnsons?

Because whoever took Mrs Lancaster

gave Miss Packard a false forwarding address.

Use your intelligence.

I would, if I had some.

What does it mean?

Well, Tommy's in the...

Oh. I shouldn't say this,

because of official secrets,
and everything,

but my husband
works for military intelligence.

Abroad most of the year,
visiting embassies, and so on.

I hope that's what she's referring to,

because if it's my intelligence
she's appealing to...well...

The painting just looks
like the Gingerbread House

in Hansel And Gretel to me!

- Would you like one?
- No, thank you.

This may sound a little mad,

but...do you want to know what I think
really happened here?

Go on.

Ada writes that Mrs Lancaster is not safe.

Why isn't she safe?

Because she knows the secrets
about a m*rder

that her relatives are connected to,

so they stick her in a retirement home,

where nobody'll listen if she lets anything slip.

But Ada listens.

And Ada believes her.

So the relatives cotton on

and when they come to whisk
Mrs Lancaster away,

they could've k*lled Ada while she slept.

It's all just too much of a coincidence,

- that it happened the same night.
- You're good at this!

I used to be.

There was a time

when Tommy and I
would do things like this together.

You know, I was approached

to join the Service at the same time as him.

I was...having our first child.

Now I'm just someone to be kind to,
someone...to placate,

with the same postcards as he would
send to his aunt.

I'm going to go to the police and insist
on a postmortem.

No! Find the Johnsons first,

because if you find them, you'll find
Mrs Lancaster

and there may be
an innocent explanation for this.

How will I find them?

Go to their solicitors

on the pretext of returning the painting.

The only female of the species

who receives mail here is a Miss Forsythe.

And as far as I know, she is not married to

a Mr...Lancaster.

Now, I know this because if she were,

she'd ask me to address her
by a different name.

Yes, but I wasn't saying
that she works here, Mr Eccles.

I was saying you're her solicitor.

Oh, am I? Huh-ha!

Yes, at least...
you take care of matters relating

to her relatives,
a Mr and Mrs Johnson?

Er, yes, they're my clients

and he lives in Keen-ya.

Oh, not supposed to say ''Keen-ya''
any more, are we?

Not proper.

Get a rap on the old knuckles, what!

That's right,
but they're back from Kenya now.

Would you have
a current address for them?

Not current, no,

but we do deal with matters pertaining
to their account.

Excuse me.

Oh. The Southern Counties Bank,
Hammersmith branch.

- Right.
- That's all there is to it.

Thank you very much, Mr Eccles.

The bank
wouldn't give out any information, Jane.

They never do, dear.

The trail's gone completely cold.

It's as though that poor woman just...

disappeared into thin air!

- Oh!
- Oh, hello.

This is Mr Timothy.

My pleasure, ma'am.

May I...relieve you of your burden?

From the Eros Gallery, Piccadilly.

- Oh, I see.
- From my description on the phone,

he recognised the painter's signature
as of Graham Boscawen.

It made him very excited.

Boscawen's very in vogue at the moment.

Terribly, terribly so.

He died in penury several years ago.

Since then,
he's become a very rich man indeed!

Oh, dear!

Oh, heaven help us.

An early work.

He didn't flower
till the Thirties. This is very much a...

a nursery plant, I'm afraid.

When was it painted?

Mid-Twenties. No later.

At that stage in his career,

he was taking weekend commissions
to paint country houses.

That sort of thing.

Oh!

This...appears to be vandalised.

I can't believe it's the artist's own hand.

What a funny little cottage!

Yes. Do you know where it is?

I'm ahead of you there.

He kept...assiduous notes throughout
his career

from a very early age.

I have...I have here somewhere...
Just a moment.

Let's just see...

Aah! There. You see?

Yes.



Farrell St Edmund.

You'll see the rope, the roses,

this attempt at a figure

and the name of the house
have all been added later.

Well, I found Farrell St Edmund.

- Oh, good.
- It's where Norfolk meets the Fens.

Mrs Beresford.

My nephew Raymond has suggested

we stay at the Chase Hotel in Ely
for the night.

Are you sure you want to come with me,
Miss Marple?

Absolutely.

Ada and Mrs Lancaster are pointing us
to the cottage.

We should try and find it.

Nice car!

It was...a birthday present from Tommy.

I always wanted one.

I'm sorry.

- Kangaroo petrol.
- Yeah.

You'll get used to this in a minute.

Hold on tight, Miss Marple!

Well, Miss Marple? Right or left?

Well, I don't know.

Oh...

Right or left?

Well, if all
the signposts hadn't been destroyed,

we'd have more of a clue!

You haven't got the map
the wrong way up again, have you?

I ask politely.

No. I respond.

Farrell St Edmund seems to be tucked away

in a little pocket of woods.

We're practically on top of it.

Right.

- Careful!
- I'm being careful.

Which way was it?

No, no!

I think it's...

Oh!

Oh, no!

Damn, damn and blast!

Have you any idea where we are?

Well, I'm normally good at map-reading.

My nephew Raymond says he wouldn't
want another navigator.

For goodness' sake, about Raymond!

I need a drink.

I hope you've brought
your thermal nightie, Miss Marple.

We might be stuck here for the night...

in the middle of mad country.

Can you remember
when we last saw a phone box?

Wasn't there one on the Norwich Road,
before the Friesians?

- Jane!
- Yes?

Hey!

You two girls broken down?

Yes.

- Where you headin'?
- Farrell St Edmund.

Oh, so are we.

I'm Chris.

- How do you do?
- Oh...

I know a local mechanic
who can help you.

- No!
- Thank you.

Come on, hop in the back.

- We got your bags.
- Oh, thank you!

Good evening to both of you travellers.

I'm Hannah.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Please, take a seat.
You must be exhausted!

Thank you, dear.

Ethan, have you seen Amos Perry?

Yeah. He's putting up a sign at the edge
of the village.

Someone keeps knocking them down.

Get him to look at this lady's car.

It's broken down on the road
toward the base.

- Can't you do it yourself?
- Things to do.

Hey, these ladies
need a room for the night, Hannah.

- They're down here looking to buy a house.
- How exciting!

Are you two ladies house-hunting
in the village?

Er...of a kind.

I got what you want.

At great expense.

- No, thanks.
- Huh, huh!

I've got a lovely double room,
recently decorated...

in lime.

Would that be all right?

- Do you only have the one?
- Er, yes, just the one.

Oh, and a lavvy in the back yard.

Recently decorated in magenta!

Let's do the bags first, Rosie,

and show our house-hunters to their room.

Then maybe I can introduce you to our...
a la carte menu.

How can we help with your quest
to find a new home?

Oh, Chris... I'm glad I caught you.

Do you have any tinned peaches
or pears?

Ah...let me see.

I got peaches and I got pears.

Oh, capital!

I promised His Lordship a fruit salad.

So, what kind of place are you
looking for?

Er...well, somewhere...

..somewhere quite specific, actually.

My friend Miss Marple here

saw a painting of the witch's house
in Farrell St Edmund

- and fell in love with it, didn't you, dear?
- I did.

And we were wondering
where we might find it

and if it might possibly be up for sale.

There's no such place.

A painting?

Yes. And where I left the car today

we actually saw a witch in the woods,
didn't we, Jane?

Yes.

Oh, that's Alice, isn't it, Dad?

Alice Perry, Amos's mother.

She did a play in the village hall

and fell in love with her costume.

Won't take it off!

I'm afraid the Perrys are soft in the head.

Oh, hello.
I'm Nellie Bligh, the vicar's wife.

- Oh, how do you do?
- Hello.

The Perrys are fine.

They're just a little bit country.

Is the vicar here...a Septimus Bligh?

Yes. That's right.

You say you have a painting of this house?

Yes. It's a Boscawen.

It's very pretty.

Perhaps one of you might...

know the house by a different name?

Oh, it's not around here.

It's from a storybook, that.

Oh, yes. We have a legend

here of the witch, from the Middle Ages.

I think this Boscawen has drawn it
from his imagination.

Where did you...get the painting?

Oh, it belongs to a friend of my family.

A Mrs...Lancaster.

Is she a resident of the village?

No.

No-one of that name lived round here.
Dr Waters?

No.

Septimus.

Septimus.

I've brought you something to eat.

Go away.

Go on.

- I want to know.
- Give me the letter, Rose.

Who is this woman?

I'm risking everything for you.

It's not what you think.

Then who is she? Tell me the truth.

Give me the letter, Rose. Now.

Just be honest with me, Chris.

- Who is she, Chris?
- She's no-one.

You left last Saturday, met up with
this woman. I know you did.

Just give me the letter.

She's making an arrangement for you to
pick her up last Saturday evening.

I want to know who she is.

- Give me the letter.
- Get off!

Did Aunt Ada paint?

No, never picked up a brush in her life.

Are you sure?

Yes. She hated poetry or music.

Any kind of art.

She made the Philistines

look like the Chelsea Arts Club.

If Ada never painted,

then it must be Mrs Lancaster who
put in here what she knew.

Waterlily.

The rope.

The roses.

This person at the window.

Did Tommy like crosswords?

The cryptic, intelligent ones?

Loved them.

It was Ada who taught him how
to do them as a boy.

Did she?

Yes.

I think what she meant was,

he should treat these as cryptic clues.

''Use your intelligence,'' she wrote.

I'll be glad when the Americans finally go.
Won't you?

I believe. I believe I will, yes.

Oh, yes.

If you asked me to marry you,
I'd say yes, Ethan.

Will... you...

Will I marry you?

- Yes.
- Yes.

Oh, the Johnsons have run
the local post office for years.

Well, I say ''post office'' -

but they've become high and mighty
since their success.

They've invested their windfall
in lots of new stock

and are renaming their shop
''Johnson's Emporium.''

- Aren't they, Ethan?
- They are, yeah.

How have they come into money?

Well...

Sir Phillip Starke
lives at the manor house.

Made a fortune in mining.

He dotes on the Johnsons' daughter,

and provides for them all.

Sir Philip invests in lots of things now.
Including films.

He's put cash into this Jane Eyre picture.

Pulled a few strings and got Nora a part.

Which is why we're all being treated

to a regional premiere this weekend.

To celebrate how wonderful Nora is!

He's having a c*ck party this evening.

Oh, Mrs Beresford,

Amos said you'd flooded your engine.

He'll have it cleaned out for you
by this afternoon.

Oh, thank you very much.

Beresford? Well, that's me.
I'm Beresford as well.

Maybe we're related.

Not unless you had an aunt Ada
and a cousin Tommy.

My husband's extended family
is quite small.

I had an Aunt Ada.

Well, no,
she was more of a distant cousin really.

Spent a few summers here years ago.

Do you think she's the same one?

No, we don't have a relative
called Lancaster. Do we, Eric?

Er no. We er...

We have a Kendal.

Oh yes, we have a Kendal in the family.

Which is a town near Lancaster.

I don't know if that's any good to you.

No, not really.

Maybe it's some other Johnsons
you're looking for?

Have you spent any time in Kenya recently?

We've been very busy recently.

We haven't had any time for travel.

Our daughter is taking her first steps
towards Hollywood.

Is she playing Jane Eyre in the film?

No.

Helen Burns. Helen Burns.

Yes, the other part.
Jane's friend, who dies of leukaemia.

Which is lovely.

It's lovely.

Good morning. Is Nora ready?

Good morning, Sir Philip.

Sir Philip here is a personal friend

of Alfred Hitchcock and Sir Michael Balcon.

Have you ladies found your dream house yet?

Oh...

Are you the ladies looking for

this house you saw in a painting?

Yes, that's right.

When I bought the manor,

I inherited
all the old maps relating to the village.

If you bring the painting up this afternoon,

we could see
if anything matches its description.

- Thank you.
- One o'clock.

I'm afraid
Nora won't come down, Sir Philip.

But we arranged that she was going
to come to manor all day.

She says that you're five minutes late, sir.

That's right.

Late?

I've never been late in my life.

Is it all right
if I come and have a word with her?

No, no, no!

- I wanted the brown pony today.
- Nora!

- I will not ride the white one.
- Yes, you will.

- I hate the white one.
- She's beautiful.

I asked you for the brown one.

Does Sir Philip have any children
of his own, Dr Waters?

No. His wife lost a child...

..and died herself soon after.

He bought the manor house as a family home,

to fill it with children.

You have never seen such money spent
in preparation for a child

but it was stillborn.

They went on holiday to the Continent
to get over it,

and she died there.

Broken heart.

He's always doted on the kids we've had
in the village.

Oh, he was very good to my Rose,
when she was growing up.

Old men can sometimes become

too sentimental around children.

Really?

I find myself becoming less tolerant.

Good morning.

Nora, stop it now!

Mrs Bligh?

Oh, good morning.

Is the Reverend Bligh here?

Not at the moment, no.

Can I help you?

That's it.

I knew I recalled the name from somewhere.

The Bishop of Norwich stayed

with the vicar at St Mary Mead last year.

They're old friends from their days
in the seminary.

Over dinner,

they talked at length about a third friend
from that time -

Septimus Bligh,

who they both described

as the most spiritual young man
they've ever known.

Oi, you two. Sling your hook. We're closed.

These are the two ladies
I was telling you about, Septimus.

I don't give a monkey's.

We do the services we're obliged to do,
and that's that. Out.

Miss Marple knows the Bishop, dear.

The Bishop?

He spoke very fondly of you at dinner last year.

May we ask you a few questions

about some of the families in your parish?

Septimus was of course joking

when he said he kept church door locked
except for services.

It's a joke I often play on our visitors,

which...which they seem to enjoy.

Would you like to come to the vicarage
for some luncheon?

I was just finishing up here.

It would be no trouble.

That's very kind of you. Thank you.

Your appointment with Sir Philip

is at one o'clock, isn't it?

That's right.

Nellie is Sir Philip's local secretary.
Aren't you, dear?

Yes.

Actually, she does almost everything for him.

Chief cook and bottle-washer.

His wife passed away.

There's a plaque over there on the wall.

He's useless without a woman's touch
around the manor.

Who are the Warrenders?

Oh, they used to be the bigwigs round here.

The Warrender family lived at Farrell Manor

for nearly 900 years.

- Why did they move out?
- They...died out.

People say they didn't marry properly.

Sir Philip bought the estate in 1924,

since when he's turned the place around.

Well, the parish records have no mention of...

Sorry, dear. Am I interrupting?

- No, dear.
- Thank you, dear.

We have no record in the parish of Lancaster.

And the only Johnsons we have...

..are the parents of that intolerable,
evil little child...

..whom we both like...

..very much.

You said this Mrs Lancaster who owned
the painting

was a family friend?

Yes, she was a friend of my husband's aunt,
Ada Beresford,

who I believe spent
a couple of summers here in the village.

I think she stayed at the Bull And Butcher.

- Oh, the Beresfords.
- Yes.

She said that Mrs Lancaster

and the Johnsons were friends
from the village.

Unless she was mistaken.

No question about that.

I've lived here for 30 years

and I've never set eyes on
that house before.

Maybe Sir Philip will come up
with something.

Did you see the painting?

What do these women know, Josh?

I don't know.

The name on the painting is Waterlily.

I know.

Waterlily.

The map is from 1516.

The earliest we inherited

from the Warrenders. Isn't it, Nellie?

Some of these buildings here are still standing.

The legend of the witch in that house

originates much earlier than that,
of course.

The house in the painting looks like it

was built much later than 1516.

Yes, but...I think that proves

it's from Boscawen's imagination.

Oh, this is a Boscawen.

Boscawen was definitely here.

Soon after we moved in,

I commissioned a landscape of the estate
for Julia, my wife.

Boscawen was here for three weeks

RE: MRS YORKE

where he must have heard the legend.

What is the legend?

I know.

Oh, that's a good idea.
Why don't you tell our guests, Nora?

In the olden days,

when Sir Guillaume de Warrender
first came here...

The family came from France

at the time of the Norman Conquests.

I'm telling the story, Nellie Bligh.

Let her finish, please.

There was a witch at the edge of the village

who used to steal the children.

Rather like Hansel and Gretel. Hm?

I also know where the witch's house is.

Where?

That house...is...where...

..where Alice Perry lives.

No, it isn't.

She's the only witch around here.

Got a bottle of Glenfiddich here.

Do you want to help me christen it?

Chris.

Miss Marple.

Will you be able to give Rose this?

When are you leaving, Chris?

Saturday.

Why don't you give this to her yourself?

Because she won't see me any more.

But this is what we'd always planned:

that she'd come over on the boat
after I leave.

I still want it to be her decision.

Why won't she see you?

I think now it's come to it,

she won't be able to leave her dad.

Not after what happened to her twin.

Rose had a twin?

Lily. And they lost her when she was
about 18 months.

She was last seen

playing on the grass in front of her house.

What do you mean, lost her?

She went missing from the village.

There was a search,

but they didn't find her body

until about two weeks later, somewhere
in the woods.

It still haunts Dr Waters,

and I think he's found out
what we're planning

and is putting pressure on her not to go.

She's all he's got.

Just er...

Tell her I love her.

What was that all about?

Lily Waters.

This is it. Waterlily.

This is the m*rder Mrs Lancaster
knew about.

The child behind the fireplace.

Ada must have recognised the house
in the painting.

It must be here somewhere.

Why is everyone lying to us?

Sorry I'm late.

I've just had a visit from a rather
nervous Ethan,

asking for permission to marry you.

- I've already given permission.
- So I gather.

It's good, Rose.

Your mother would have approved.

There it is.

Mr Perry.

Mr Perry... Oh. Hello.

I'm Mrs Beresford. I wondered when
my car would be ready.

Five minutes.

Oh, good.

Whose Bentley is it?

Sir Philip's.

What's it doing here?

It was stolen last Saturday night.

They did for one of its back eyes.
Here, take a look.

Does Sir Philip know who stole it?

Americans, weren't it, Alice?

Returned it like this.

Does he know which American?

That Chris, wasn't it, Alice?

That's right.

One who was always after Rose Waters.

Mrs Lancaster.

- Thank you.
- Ta, guv.

Tuppence.

Tuppence!

Beresford.

Tommy, you must order a postmortem
for Aunt Ada.

Find out exactly how she was m*rder*d.

- What?
- She left a letter behind a painting

saying she was in fear of her life.

Ada would have died
of heart disease, Tuppence.

The Polo mints, and the one-eyed car
and the witch's house

all point at Ada being right.

She'd learned too much about the death

in 1926 of Lily Waters

and someone k*lled her.

I want you to come home, darling.

No, no, no, Tommy. You must listen to me.

I know things have been difficult since...

since the children left home,

and that you've been alone, that you've...

you've lost confidence.

I want you to stay where you are
in Farrell St Edmund.

Colonel Beresford.

And who is this?

My name is Jane Marple.
Your wife is right.

There is a possibility that Ada was m*rder*d
at Sunny Ridge

and Mrs Lancaster abducted by someone
in this village.

We are about to contact the police here

and would appreciate your authorising
that postmortem.

Do you understand?

Would you go away, please,
and put my wife back on the line?

Do you know Sir Henry Clithering,

the Commissioner of Scotland Yard?

Well, yes, of course.

Our paths have crossed before
and we are personal friends.

If you have doubt as to how seriously
to take allegations

I suggest you contact him, Colonel Beresford.

He won't make that call.

If he doesn't, he doesn't.

And we'll find out who was driving

that Bentley without him, won't we?

Ah! Sir Henry.

Tommy Beresford, MI6.

Yes.

Sir Henry, do you by any chance

know an old biddy called Miss Marple?

Oh, that's very good. Very good.

Sir Philip.

Is there a problem, Ethan?

Very...very sorry, sir.

But It seems erm...

it seems our guests from the village

have not...
have not been looking for property, sir.

Oh, haven't they?

No.

I've spoken to Scotland Yard

Sir Henry Clithering, actually -

and it seems er... it seems

that on evidence supplied er...
by our guests,

they are wanting to investigate
the abduction of an old lady

from Sunny Ridge Retirement Home
in Oxfordshire.

Well, you must do your duty, Ethan.

Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

Can I ask where you were
on Saturday night, sir?

Why?

It appears that the car used in the abduction

was yours, Sir Philip.

What are you doing here?

We've brought the nibbles for tonight.
Like Sir Philip asked

Where's Septimus?

At your house.

I only realised the Bentley was taken

when I saw the damage on Sunday morning.

I didn't report it, Ethan,

because I didn't want to cause trouble
with American lads

who I thought must have pinched it for a jape.

I'm relying on them this weekend
to lend cinema equipment.

Of course.

Were you here all evening, Sir Philip?

Hm?

Yes, were you in all evening?

I was.
I popped out a little later in the afternoon

to um...get some stuff at Johnson's shop

and those Americans must have taken it.

So you were on duty when the Bentley
went missing?

Yeah, I was meeting up with Rose
last Saturday,

but it didn't happen.

I couldn't get away from the base.

But the other night, Chris.

Outside the pub.

I could hear
you and Rose having an argument.

- I want to know who she is!
- Just give me the letter.

You know what women are like.
You cancel a date,

and they think you're with another girl.

And were you?

Why would I want to be with anyone else?

Christopher Murphy, I'm arresting you

on suspicion of stealing
Sir Philip Starke's Bentley

and for the abduction of...
Where are you going?

You're not arresting me for anything, Ethan.

Come back! I'm a policeman!

I know he did it.

I was with Rose that evening

he stood her up at the same time
the Bentley went missing.

What would be his motive?

His motive was that there's guilt written
all over his face.

Is what I hear true, Dr Waters?

Is she marrying him?

Thank you, Alice.

No, no, my dear.

But you look after yourself.

- Thank you, dear.
- Thank you, Miss Marple.

Would you give this back to Chris,
please, Miss Marple?

Why are you marrying Ethan Maxwell, Rose,

and not the man you really care about?

Because he promised everything, Miss Marple.

Love.

New life away from here.

And then he carries on with other women
behind my back.

He doesn't seem the type of boy
who would do that.

Then how do you explain this?

I found it in his jacket last Sunday.

The day after he stood me up.
DEAR CHRIS, I CAN SEE YOU

SATURDAY. PICK ME UP AT EIGHT.
DON'T BE LATE. SYLVIA.

Does he know you're pregnant, Rose?

No.

No-one does.

Apart from Alice Perry who prepared a
ginger linctus for you

I presume to counteract any nausea?

Please don't tell Chris or Ethan.

Yes, of course, Ethan, I pinched the Bentley.

Um, what was I supposed to have done?

Driven to Oxfordshire.

Oh, yes.
Driven to Oxfordshire and stolen a lady.

Eric, I've been accused of stealing a lady.

- Why?
- Yes, why?

For my own personal enjoyment, I imagine.

How lovely.

Come on.

- Was she in her 20s?
- She was 75.

Ah, yes. Well...

Who do I have to bless to get a
decent drink around here?

My husband was with me all Saturday evening.

It's the night he writes his sermons,
isn't it, dear?

And I was helping him cross-reference
between the Gospels.

And what was the text for the sermon?

Yes, what was it, Nell?

The Good Samaritan.

Yes...

Bloody do-gooder.

- Septimus!
- Well, he was, wasn't he?

This collar is k*lling. Excuse me.

Ethan.

Have you asked the young American yet?

Sir Philip is sure
it was him or one of his compatriots.

Good evening, Miss Packard.

Colonel Beresford.

Inspector James, Scotland Yard.

How can I help you?

I am here on the authority
of Commissioner of Scotland Yard.

My aunt Ada was poisoned, Miss Packard.

A post-mortem has revealed

that she died as a result of an overdose
of morphine.

Morphine?

Morphine.

You're after a drink.

I recognise a fellow soak when I see one.

Do you hide your bottles under hedges,

and behind books on bookshelves?

Why do you drink?

Why do you?

Because life is empty of meaning.

I thought you and that other nervy lady

were looking for a house, not a woman.

We thought the house might lead us
to the woman.

Water Lily.

What happened to Lily Waters,

Reverend Bligh?

Rose is such a pretty name.

Yes.

She was telling me she had a twin. Lily.

The doctor in my village has a daughter
called Iris

because it's his wife's favourite flower.

Did you choose your daughters' names
for a similar reason?

Yes.

My wife's favourite was the Tudor rose,

and mine was the lily.

How did your wife die?

We lost Lily, Miss Marple.

My wife never really recovered.

If they ever leave you,
they take half of you with them.

They searched all over for the little girl.

Did they find her?

Not till two weeks later.

Job found her.

Amos's brother Job.

Where?

In the woods.

Job was erm...

off kilter.

You know?

The way people used to get round here

when they didn't see anyone else
for generations.

The way the Warrenders got.

But old Job was a country boy

and he believed all that Halloween guff

about spirits in the woods

and witches that turn into mice and birds,
and country lore.

Anyway, people thought,

''Well, Job found her.

Maybe Job took her in the first place.''

And did he?

Job hanged himself.

Did they know how the child died?

They did all sorts of tests and they thought,
maybe poison.

Chris.

Rose.

The last two planes are leaving tomorrow.

I'm on the second one.

Use your ticket, Rose.

If you can't tell me what you were doing
last Saturday night

and who you were with,
then how can I trust you?

I...

I'll be at the film for a while tomorrow.

If you want it, I'll have your ticket.

What were you doing?

You see... what I don't understand is...

Both the Waters sisters were referenced
in the painting. Right?

- Yes.
- And you see...

Oh...Miss Beresford,

could I have another,
if you would be so kind?

I think she wants to leave.

There's Lily, with the name of the house,

and Rose, with the flowers.

Of course, the rope has to be Job.

But God knows who's supposed to be
standing at the window.

No.

You see,
what Mrs Lancaster said to me was,

''Was it your poor child behind the fire?''

And Lily didn't die in a fire.

Exactly.

- She was poisoned!
- So where's the fire?

She was specific.

Oh! Thank you.

- Shall we take our drinks upstairs?
- Oh!

That's so kind of you.

- Good night, Miss Marple.
- Good night, Miss Beresford.

Good night, Mrs Beresford.

Oh, good night, Miss Beresford!

- Shall we go upstairs, dear?
- Hm?

- Let's go upstairs.
- Oh...

There we are.

Whoops!

That's it, dear.

Oh - what time do Scotland Yard
come in the morning?

Upstairs.

That's it.

Ooh. Whoops-a-daisy.

Hannah.

Hannah!

- Is the coast clear?
- They've gone to bed. Come.

What is it, my darling?

She just wants me to lie and lie, Hannah.

- Nellie?
- Well, of course Nellie.

Nellie - I hate Nellie. I want her to die.

Something's making a strange screeching
noise behind fireplace!

Ooh!

Aah!

Open the window.

Look.

This is a warning.
''Something wicked this way comes.''

Someone's trying to scare us.

''Behind the fireplace.''

Are you all right, Miss Marple?

Mrs Beresford? Are you all right?

We're getting very close.

- Mr Eccles?
- Aah!

Excuse me,

in my legal capacity I must ask that
you make appointment

with my secretary, Miss Forsyth.
- Please sit down.

Very well for you to say that. My seat's wet.

Sit down.

My name is Colonel Beresford, of Ml6.

This is Inspector James, of Scotland Yard.

We have reason to suspect clients
of yours, the Johnsons,

of being involved in m*rder and abduction.

If you do not tell me everything you know
about them

you will be arrested
for perverting the course of justice.

Do you understand me?

Ah, well... Johnson is what you might call a...

quiet client
one doesn't ask too many questions about.

- What is his full name?
- Oh, he doesn't...

..use his real name, I have no doubt.

- What is his real name?
- Well, heaven knows.

Um, you know, I...

apart from dealing with the bank accounts,

we have had correspondence with the fellow.

I have some...

Yes, yes...Commandant Beaurepaire.
- Who?

Beaurepaire, care of the Post Office,
Farrell St Edmund.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we are lucky...in this community,

to have living amongst us...

a great man.

Hear, hear.

A great philanthropist,

who has worked tirelessly through
charitable trusts

to improve the lot of his fellow man,

and, of course, a great patron of the arts.

Ladies and gentlemen, Sir Philip.

Last night, up at the air base,

I discovered Chris Murphy

tried to sign a car out from the vehicle pool

but was denied permission. Look.

Consequently no-one up there saw him.

He went AWOL, a military term...

Yes, yes.
But between which times was he gone?

Four in the afternoon till one in the morning.

Easily enough time
to get to Sunny Ridge and back.

And...I went over Sir Philip's Bentley
and found this,

fallen down between the front seats.

..Helen Burns...

- Hey! You looking forward to this?
- Hello.

Apparently, Nora's only got one line.

It's a great pleasure to present

Miss Nora Johnson, in Jane Eyre.

Thank you, thank you. Lights.

Oh, Helen,
you're my only friend in this school.

To think that
I'll have to go through life without you!

Oh, don't cough, Helen!

Every cough breaks my aching heart!

Have a glass of water.

They should arrest him now.

Scotland Yard will be here soon,

and they've asked us to wait.

The Americans are moving out today!

By tonight he could be in a different country.

Is there anything you would like to say
to your dear Jane

before you leave me, Helen?

My kindest friend...

What was that? You couldn't hear me!

Oh, stop it!

Oh, dear!

- Sir Philip Starke?
-Yes.

What on earth's going on?

Stop the film, please.

- What?
- Stop the film!

What's going on?

Right. Where are they, Sir Philip?

Uh...

Ah.

Eric and Betty Johnson?

- Yes.
- Colonel Beresford, MI6.

You are under arrest
for the m*rder of Ada Beresford

and the abduction of Mrs Lancaster.

Ah, there um...
there must be some mistake.

You're not obliged to say anything.

Take them out.

Ladies and gentlemen,
would you mind leaving now, please?

- Am I Commandant Beaurepaire? No!
- No!

- That's not me!
- That's not him!

He comes from Luton!

For the past 12 years,

correspondence has been addressed to him,

Commandant Beaurepaire, at your address.

Yes, that's right.

Well, who picks it up?

- We're not gossips. Never.
- No.

It's easy to gossip if you deal with the post,

and we don't do it.

Who picks it up?

The only Commandant Beaurepaire I know

is the name of the rose -

the red-and-white one.

Round here
they call it the York and Lancaster.

The Tudor rose.

Nellie Bligh picks it up!

Would you allow me
to lead investigation, please, darling?

- She's right.
- Mm.

We think it's the code name for
Nellie Bligh's fancy man.

Oh, no. No, no. It's the code name she uses

for dealing with the old lady

she hides away in an old people's home.

I saw this on her desk yesterday.

But this refers to the care of a Mrs York,
not Lancaster.

I think she'd use both York and Lancaster -

maybe alternating between them
whenever she moved home.

We thought the roses in the painting

meant Rose Waters, but they don't.

They mean the old lady herself.

Did Miss Packard give a good description
of the Mrs Johnson

another name stolen from the village -

who came to pick the old lady up?

Yes. Ah, yes.
Did she give a good description?

Here, sir.

It couldn't have been Nellie Bligh.

She was helping Septimus
with a sermon that night.

No, Tuppence.
Septimus and Nellie have a cold marriage.

On the surface,
the writing of the sermon is a lie

to hide the fact that Septimus spends
every night

with the one woman in the village
who really loves him...

..Hannah.

The Blighs were anxious this adultery

didn't get back to the Bishop,

for if it did, he would lose his living.

But once you've unpicked that lie,

the person left without an alibi...

is Nellie.

This has been Nellie all along.

It was she who had the best access
to Sir Philip's car,

she who corresponded with the solicitor,

no doubt she
who tried to scare us off last night

and she who took Mrs Lancaster
from Sunny Ridge.

Mrs Packard describes her as...

''early-40s, 5'5'', brown eyes...
and always wears glasses''

- Mr Policeman! - What is it?

Nellie Bligh's dead, sir!

What happened?

She's been run over, sir.

It's got to be Chris Murphy, sir.

He left the film before anyone else,

and Americans drive their trucks
like lunatics.

By the state of her injuries,
it was a heavy vehicle, sir.

It could easily have been the truck.

- What's the name?
- Chris Murphy, sir.

Where are these Americans based?

I'll take you there myself, sir.

It was an accident. Honestly.

I didn't see her.

I just didn't see her.

I thought I'd hit a pothole or something.

You know? Er...an animal.

But when I got out,
Mrs Bligh was at the side of the road.

Why didn't you report this accident?

Cos it wasn't an accident, sir!
I think that somehow,

in some way,
which I'm sure will be revealed by somebody,

you were in league with Nellie Bligh.

- To do what?
- You went with her to Sunny Ridge.

When the truth was about to be exposed,

before you tried to leave the country,

you took a truck and m*rder*d her!

How do you explain

the presence of your cap
in Sir Philip Starke's Bentley?

Because you'd put it there,
hadn't you, Ethan?

Hadn't you? T
o blacken the name of your rival for Rose.

You've been trying to shift suspicion onto Chris

from the beginning of the investigation.

It's probable that Nellie Bligh was not
working alone,

so let's check her husband, her employer
and anybody

to this Mrs Lancaster.
- Tommy.

Darling! You can leave this to us now.

Please.

Are you English, Chris?

Half. My parents divorced

and I went to live with my dad
when I was ten.

Yes.

And...who's Sylvia?

Is she the woman you picked up at 8pm
last Saturday?

Who is she, Chris?

Is she your mother?

Mm. Where does she live?

- London.
- Mm.

They wouldn't let me have a car, so I ah...

I went on the train.
- Mm.

You know since I've been here,
I've been trying to find her.

Trying to get the courage to go and see her.

- She ah...had another family.
- Mm?

She didn't want to know.

And...you're ashamed of this?

Mm? Ashamed of...telling Rose?

Why?

It appears that you are off the hook.

That was the hospital on the telephone.

Nellie Bligh was not k*lled in the accident.

She was dead before you hit her.

She had been poisoned.

I'm thinking Nellie didn't do this alone.

- So who was helping her?
- Well.

Whose car was it?

Who didn't report it missing?

Who was Nellie Bligh in love with?

So much so that she tolerated

her husband living with another woman?

Sir Philip Starke.

But he didn't go to Sunny Ridge with her.

He was at Emporium when she would have
to have been on road.

What was he buying?
Stocking up on basic provisions

because he was expecting a sudden guest?

Mrs Lancaster.

If only I could have
another look at Nellie's desk at Manor.

I'm sure I'd find lots of papers relating
to Mrs Lancaster.

Papers that would draw a straight line
to Philip Starke,

and reveal who this Mrs Lancaster really is.

Oh, I know who she is.

Don't you?

- Who?
- I just don't know where to find her.

Why are the bells ringing
at this time of night?

What on earth's going on?

It's Septimus, sir.

You've got to come. He...he wants all of you.

Come on, quickly!

- All of us?
- Quick!

- You go.
- Yes.

Septimus! What are you doing?

I'm calling you to confession.

I know it's what the other lot do,

but tonight, we're going to do a bit of it here.

When I first came here, I had a future.

Isn't that true, Sir Philip?

I was going to be a bishop.

I could have gone higher.

This was the first rung for me...

and Nellie.

We had ambitions.

But then a child disappeared from this village...

Taken from outside her house
as she was playing.

And as the spiritual leader,

I had to make sense of this.

But how do you make sense of something
insensible? Hm?

When Lily Waters was m*rder*d in our village,

Job Perry knew we all blamed him for it.

He came to me, and he begged me for help,

for guidance...

..for a friend.

And I turned him out.

I'm sorry, Amos,

but that night,
your brother hanged himself from a tree

because I hadn't helped him.

I hadn't helped him.

And later,
I realised he was innocent of that crime.

My wife revealed to me

who'd taken that child,
and k*lled that child, and my wife -

my wife - begged me
to stay quiet about Job's innocence,

and do what was right.

She said it was in our interest to stay quiet.

Who k*lled the child, Septimus?

If you do not reveal who the k*ller was,

there is a serious possibility

that you will be arrested f
or perverting course of justice.

Do you understand?

Some secrets have been buried too deep

and for too long to be easily revealed.

Isn't that true, Septimus?

The Perrys
weren't the only family in these parts

that suffered from the softness of
interbreeding.

Were they, Septimus?

The Warrenders, at the other end
of the social scale,

suffered the same affliction.

But the last one had married properly,

hadn't she, Sir Philip?

It had struck me as odd that your wife's
memorial plaque

was with the other Warrenders,

for that's her family, isn't it?

Julia Starke was the last Warrender.

- Yes!
- Mm.

And Julia Starke had taken Lily Waters
and k*lled her.

Yes!

And Nellie,
full of deference to the social order,

full of loyalty to you, Sir Philip,

had agreed to support you in the cover-up,

to let the blame fall
on a man who couldn't defend himself

and to persuade her husband...

to allow a fraudulent plaque

to be placed in his church.

Hansel and Gretel.

If a woman is battling psychological problems,

then...pregnancy, and especially
the loss of a child,

can be the crisis that pushes her
over the edge.

I believe this must have happened to your wife.

She was a late mother, maybe 40,

and I think you were aware of immense
pressure she was under

You bought her old family home
and moved her here,

to where she had been happy as a child herself.

You prepared house
for the arrival of the child, with love,

and when it didn't arrive...

..she took one...from the village.

My wife is dead!

The wife you knew is dead.

But down the years,
you and Nellie have taken care

of the shell that was left of Julia,
haven't you?

Keeping her resident in institutions,

I imagine, then retirement homes...

..hiding her identity
through the use of pseudonyms,

like...Mrs York,

and Mrs Lancaster.

I think...Colonel Beresford's aunt

had stumbled across the truth
at Sunny Ridge.

Maybe she had recognised the name
of the village

when talking about painting, and asked
too many questions.

When she wrote, ''Mrs Lancaster is not safe,''

what she had meant was not
that Mrs Lancaster was in danger,

but that Mrs Lancaster...was the danger.

''Behind the fireplace...''

Do come in.

Please, sit down.

What a very pretty brooch. Isn't it?

Would you like a look?

I've met you before, haven't I?

Yes, Julia.

At Sunny Ridge.

Sunny Ridge?

Yes.

You told me that there was...
a child behind the fireplace.

Yes. Yes, I did.

That fireplace.

Where is she now, Sir Philip?

Is she in the house Boscawen painted?

The house you and Nellie went
to great lengths

with your maps to prove didn't exist?

It doesn't exist.

Yes, it does.

I've played in it.

It's a playhouse he built

for the babies in the woods on the estate.

Before he showed me,
it had been abandoned for 25 years.

No-one knew it was there.

Where is it, Nora?

Is this where you brought Lily Waters?

To play, while I watched.

Why let all this love go to waste?

Why did you k*ll her?

Why should my baby die,
and the common child live?

Some things are simple
when you look at them right.

You know what you have to do.

Have a glass of milk, my dear.

And...what about Ada Beresford?

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

That was a simple thing to see.

A glass of milk, my dear?

No, thank you.

Ada wasn't the first.

All those with a little knowledge down

the years have been removed,

and Philip has moved me somewhere new.

I always wanted Philip to move me,

not that woman who coveted him.

Stay! Sit in there! I have told you!

Is that why you k*lled Nellie Bligh today?

Hm. Was that her name?

Milk, my dear.

No. No.

Here. It's down here.

Argh!

Ah! Aah!

- There's no escape! I did tell you...
- Please, Julia!

- I'll take that, thank you.
- Julia! Enough, enough!

- I want that!
- Enough, Julia.

- Oh, Phillip. She knows, Phillip!
- Enough. Please.

Phillip? Phillip!

- She knows!
- It's all right, my darling.

- It's all right.
- Sir Philip and Lady Starke,

I am arresting you for the m*rder
of Nellie Bligh,

Ada Beresford and Lily Waters.

Lily...

You are not obliged to say anything,

but anything you say will be taken down

and may be used in evidence.

Dad...

Chris and I are going to get married.

With your permission, sir.

Yes, of course.

And we're going to set up home here, sir.

Oh, Dad.

Oh!

Well! Who would like

a good old-fashioned English
cooked breakfast?

- A Beresford special?
- A Beresford special, yes!

It must run in the family.

It's the only thing he knows how to cook.

Then I look forward to your help
in the kitchen, cousin.

Thank you, Miss Marple.

You did most of this yourself, Tuppence.

Remember that.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you!

I thought I'd lost you, Tuppence.

I thought I'd lost you, Tommy,

a long time ago.

After breakfast,
let's just go straight back to London.

Yes.

And I'll drive.